There are three constants in life that make my claws come out: 1) Bad drivers; 2) People who hold full conversations with me without ever making eye contact; and 3) Servers who try to take my margarita glass before I’m done with my drink.
On our vacation, however, I discovered there is something that not only makes the claws come out, but also fills me with an overwhelming urge to insert them into a certain person’s eyeballs — that person being a stranger talking sh*t about my child.
We were at a restaurant grazing on shrimp appetizers and enjoying the ocean view — don’t pity us too much — when Miss Skye, overcome with happiness, as she was so many times during our trip, grabbed my face and gave me a kiss. Her kisses have evolved from the original open-mouthed dive to a plant-my-mouth-on-your-cheek-and-kinda-nibble technique that evokes memories of my first real make-out session in the movie theater where Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was playing. Only Miss Skye is much cuter, more innocent and less sloppy than that braces-clad amateur kisser.
These nibbles can be painful, but they’re not bites. Vampire Baby has bitten me on the shoulder, on the arm and on the neck, so I know what her bites feel like. Like, OUCH. They leave a mark. I think they’re Skye’s way of marking her territory. Because if I so much as glance at another baby, she screams and shoots me a look that says, I will not hesitate to pee on you, woman, if that’s what it takes. It’s very similar to the look her father gives me on my way out the door for a girls’ night out.
These nibbles, on the other hand, are just Skye’s way of feeling out this kissing nonsense. Let’s face it: the ability to properly pucker up isn’t innate. In fact, some people never figure it out. Mr. Candy estimates Skye will finally be prepared to kiss a boy in about forty years. Give or take a decade.
As I extracted my little nibbler from my face, I saw a woman at the table next to us gesturing wildly and glancing over at us every, oh, three seconds or so.
…And then she BIT HER CHEEK!
I could hear the woman declaring this to her fellow diner clear as day. As though she wanted me to hear her.
If I had a child, I would never stand for that.
That’s right. I was a bad mother because I embraced my daughter’s bumbling shows of affection. But I think I deserved some positive mommy points for only visualizing giving the woman the finger, rather than actually giving it to her. Right?
If Skylar had just turned her head, I totally would have given the woman the finger.
Not wanting to make a scene (clearly, I was sober), I pointedly stared at the woman instead. I’d like to think my piercing gaze effectively conveyed my message: a powerful combination of Seriously? I AM SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU, YOU IDIOT! and I will not hesitate to pee on you, woman, if you talk about my child again.